Bobble Head Me

Some days…ok MOST days anymore…I feel like a bobble head doll. Ten could put me in the back window of his truck to amuse passersby.

This, the damn shaking, the “essential” tremors should calm the fuck down after my kopf kuttng – this next big surgery

I got my wish, mes amis – Barker’s gonna open me up in early to mid January. PHEW! I’ll get the exact date later today.

Ya know one of the things I love about him? He has a sense of humor – he’s real. He gets me. In yesterday’s meeting, while I was still thinking I had to sell him on cracking me open sooner than later, I melodramatically bleated “I just wanna feel like ME again.” He smiled and said “well, I can’t make you 18 again.” This naturally led to me telling him about Scalzi’s Old Man’s War (which, incredibly, he hasn’t read) and the whole consciousness transfer into brand-y new healthy bods dealio. Barker’s response? “We’re working on that.” I musta looked mega astounded and all SIGN ME UP because he quickly added “Not here but…” and then we got back to my non-fictional bean.

He mentioned that he still uses the mug I made for him, 15 years ago – the last time he saved my life. It's his favorite "because it's so big." Given that last surgery with him went 18 motherfucking hours (!!!) I figured an extra big jolt juice jar was appropriate.

Time estimate for this new event? Six hours! Yeah, like Felicity said "it's a drive-by."

Reality has one advantage over fiction — it does not have to be plausible.
~ Joe Carroll